My Bad Boy Doctor

5

"You're very quiet. Are you alright?"

I nod, still unable to speak. Does he know what he's doing to me; how my heart is thumping faster that the Energizer Bunny on crack? With shuddering breaths, I slowly turn in a half circle until I'm facing him at an angle, keeping my hands clenched in my lap. "I—"

I what? I want to straddle you? I shouldn't be doing this? Talk about a paradox and a half.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to meet his eyes. He seems nice by the way he offers to order food and with how he came to see me in the hospital, but looks can be deceiving. As much as I hate confrontation, I need to be honest with him and end it now before he thinks he can take a mile.

"Blake, erm, Doctor Cole, I don't think this is a good idea," I murmur.

He wraps a loose strand of my hair around his finger, zapping every sensitive area of my body with lightning. If he keeps doing this, I'll combust on the spot in a completely different way. His dark blue irises remain fixed on mine as my gaze darts to his obscenely full lips. I also can't help noticing how his bicep flexes with such a small action. He could break me in half right here if he wanted to.

His voice is low, confident, but not at all demanding; only curious. "How come? Are you seeing someone?"

That was laughable. I haven't been on a date in months. "No."

"Are you into women?"

My cheeks burn at the blunt question. That's Val, who loves everyone. I can barely stand myself. "I like men," I whisper, wondering if I'll die in the next few minutes from mortification.

A noiseless laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile. Like everyone else, he probably finds me frustrating and wishes he never asked. Either that, or I'm a new conquest because I present a challenge. "Then what? Are you not interested?"

When I don't immediately respond, he props his arm on the bar and watches me with a rounded, hopeful expression behind crystalline blue irises. Tracing his finger in lazy circles on the polished wood, he whispers, "I saw a notification that you'd followed me on Instagram. I have to admit I was a little disappointed when you unfollowed me right away. That maybe you were just shy."

Oh, god, why does the universe hate me? I can't tell him I only followed him by accident because I'd sneezed. And it's not that I'm not interested. It's that a beautiful woman with a giant engagement ring is in a lot of photos with him, and I don't know yet if she's a relative or his wife.

I swipe my tequila from the bar, downing it in one swift gulp. I need liquid courage for this conversation. "I'm sorry, but I don't date married men," I finally reply, a bit too loudly.

Oops. That just happened.

The trio behind me suddenly stops speaking, and I can feel everyone's stares as Blake's smile slides off his face. His lips part and his eyebrows reach the sky, but I'm firm in my answer, lifting my chin a fraction to let him know I'm serious.

He moves his mouth to speak when one of the men, Brett, I think, speaks instead with a boisterous laugh. "Blake?" He scoffs as if it's the funniest thing he's heard all night, and I'm sure the alcohol isn't helping. "Sweetie, if he was married and going to cheat, he'd do it right with someone a little more in his league."

Blake's eyes squeeze closed and his jaw visibly clenches while my heart feels like someone ran a javelin through it. Liquid splashes behind me, Brett yelps, and a loud thump follows. I turn to see Val towering over a red-faced man on the floor, holding a tube of mace in her hand.

Her smile is long gone, replaced by murder in her eyes, and venom drips from every word. "I'll have you know that Kelly is a hundred times better than any of you deserve. Only a shallow pig would disrespect her, especially on her birthday. Now get the fuck off the floor and go find another table."

Brett scrambles to his feet and paws at his swollen skin. Tears stream down his cheeks as he whimpers, "You're crazy!"

Oh dear...

Rage dominates her features, from her bared teeth to her heeled feet planted shoulder-width apart like she's about to kick him in the nuts. "You wanna see loco, chiquillo?"

Without giving him a chance to respond, she grabs his junk and twists, making him scream. Not gonna lie though; that makes me cringe too and thank Mother Nature I don't have a set of jewels.

Ajay wisely backs away as Blake winces and shifts in his chair, pressing his thighs together. Neither seem willing to come to Brett's defense, leaving him to Val's wrath. Even the bartender has disappeared.

Curling her lip in a sneer, she snarls with the ferocity of a jaguar, slipping deeper into her accent. "You might think you're God's gift, but let me say something to you: Toxic. Isn't. Attractive. Now get lost before I stomp on your shit and make sure you never have children."

There's no reason left for me to remain here. My festive mood evaporated the moment I humiliated myself when I incorrectly assumed Blake was married. Why would he be married when his friends are selfish jerks, looking for a good lay? I kind of wish Blake had been married. Anything is better than what Brett just said to me.

I reach into my purse for my wallet, but Val beats me to paying the tab, slipping a twenty into the tab glass before linking her arm with mine and pulling me away. "Let's go, angelita."

No matter how much I try to hold the tears at bay, they burn my eyes the moment I reach the door. I'm not dramatic enough to sob over it, but my nose swells with sniffles as my throat tightens with hiccups.

Val wraps her arm around my waist, holding me close until the rideshare arrives. Together, we slide into the car, where I immediately curl into her, resting my cheek on her shoulder. The shock has finally worn off, but the pain of feeling like I've been slapped hasn't.

So much for a happy birthday. Next year, I should ask Val to burn the house down.

***

Chiquillo — 'little boy': Slang to imply immaturity in a man or teenager.